


flying high

by johnathot-seed (johns_gate)



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 00:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johns_gate/pseuds/johnathot-seed
Summary: She had hardly imagined spending her day on a treasure hunt, of all things. Just when she thought John couldn't surprise her anymore, he went and proved her wrong.





	flying high

Thirty-three years of age, and whilst Miriam had never put much stock into the celebration of her birthday, she was proud of herself for making it this far. The past year had been one of her worst: the relapse that had hit her hard and forced her to try and take desperate measures in attempts to quench the growing void in her life; the holy war between The Project at Eden's Gate and the Resistance, all whilst trying to keep her growing relationship with a certain herald of said cult a secret.

This time last year, she would have been thankful just to have survived the next week. Now, it was with a sense of pride and gratitude that she could look back at just how far she had come: clean from her addictions for nigh on seven months; a fully fledged member of Eden’s Gate - and more recently, John’s second-in-command.

Now? Well, she had hardly imagined spending her day on a bizarre treasure hunt, of all things. Just when she thought John couldn't surprise her anymore, he went and proved her wrong.

She adjusted her seat in the truck, moving the seat back to allow herself more leg room. Crossing her arms, she slumped further down the seat and settled into waiting even more. Traipsing around both the Valley and the Henbane hadn't been quite what Miriam had expected after starting her investigation into missing shipments; and yet she had done just that. She was exhausted - both mentally and physically - and despite her best efforts, the truck was beginning to grow uncomfortably warm as the afternoon sun beat down. With some reluctance, she forced herself to turn the volume up on the radio to battle her increasing fatigue, before leaning back in the seat.

Whatever John had planned, it had better be worth all the effort.

In truth, she had half expected the day to pass without any fanfare, the way John had barely made so much of a brief mention of it. She had chastised herself for her childish immaturity at the bitter feeling growing in the pit of stomach as John appeared to treat the day just as any other, the only difference being the request that she investigate into missing supplies that the Project had reaped.

She had tried to ignore the bitterness she felt as she drunk her morning coffee; trying, and failing, to convince herself that the bitterness was entirely the coffee's fault. She had watched in silence - as had become her custom - as John rushed around the kitchen gathering the hastily abandoned paperwork from last night; swiftly downing his now cold coffee with a skill that would have erased any doubts about his days before the Project had Miriam had any, before almost bolting out the door. He had stopped himself, returning to press a soft kiss to her lips - as had become his custom. 

She’d hummed in appreciation into the kiss, her seemingly bad mood dissipating almost instantly. Not quite ready to let him go just yet, her hands found their way to his shoulders, holding him close to her for just a moment longer, whining her displeasure when he eventually pulled away from her.

“I'm late my dear!” He had laughed, as she held onto his hand as long as she possibly could before letting go. Despite his proclaimed lateness, he lingered at the door frame for a moment, watching Miriam with a strange expression.

Miriam sat up, her heart fluttering at the thought of maybe, just maybe, this would be the first time in 33 years that her birthday wouldn't be overlooked. She looked back at him, holding his gaze as her head tilted slightly and with a raised brow.

“You are still okay to investigate the missing shipments, aren't you, my dear? More and more are going missing, and with the Collapse -”

“ _‘- upon us, we need to be prepared for when we walk through Eden's Gate.’_ ” She quoted him effortlessly. “ I can handle this John.”

He had simply nodded after a slight hesitation, before walking out of the room with a wave of his hand, calling out his goodbye as he did so.

Her heart plummeted as the sound of the door reverberated through the Ranch. She thought John would have been different: that he would have remembered.

Downing her own coffee, she had followed suit soon after, stopping only to give Boomer a farewell pet as he took his rightful place on the couch; giving the paperwork John had left behind for her a brief glance as she left the Ranch. A single set of coordinates emblazoned across a sheet of paper was her first port of call.

Miriam had thought it strange when she found herself arriving at the very lake where the Project baptisms took place; with more guards placed than seemed necessary - especially for a task John had insisted she treat with sensitivity. Dismissing any confusion, she had followed the Peggie beckoning her to follow them.

She bit down the wild urge to urge to smirk as she was led to the very spot her and John's relationship had started; biting the corner of her mouth to stop herself from laughing. She may have been with the Project for six months, but she was well aware she wasn't exactly trusted by every member of the Project - especially when John wasn't around to vouch for her. Joseph had accepted Miriam, and the majority of the flock had done nothing but welcome her with open arms, yet a few members still saw her as the reason why so many friends and family now laid underground. She had hopes she could unshackle herself from the brand of being a traitor: shackles that were of her own making. That she had earned the respect and trust of John's most trusted soldiers eased any insecurities Miriam had about not being accepted by the masses. Bursting out laughing would hardly help ease the tension between the two of them.

So Miriam ignored how a copy of the Book of Joseph was violently thrust into her hands; the Peggie's animosity practically radiating from her in waves. 

Miriam had expected substantial evidence, not a battered copy of Joseph's word. She blinked in confusion, but any questions she had were promptly brushed away, as the woman in front her kept her steely gaze upon Miriam.

A curt “Deputy” had been her dismissal, and Miriam practically curled her lip as she felt the all too familiar feeling of anger beginning to flare in the pit of her stomach, threatening to surge through her. Confrontations such as this always brought the trouble to the forefront of her mind, but she refused to agonize over it now - not when she had a job to complete.

Confusion swept through her as she returned to her truck, finally noticing the piece of folded paper peeking out from within the covers of the book. She paused as she recognised John's own scrawling script: " _Behold the **Lamb of God** who takes away the sin of the world_” followed by a solitary 1. As if the clue hadn't been obvious enough, he had helpfully underlined the words ‘Lamb of God’ with drastic strokes.

Miriam had snorted to herself. What she and John had once done in that church could hardly be described as free of sin, despite John's insistence that he was simply helping her “get closer to God."

Whatever helped him sleep at night, she supposed.

And so it had begun, with Miriam finding yet another message at the heavily guarded church, accompanied with a seemingly insignificant number. It was the same occurrence at every location John had sent her to. She found herself descending into the depths of John’s Gate; ascending to the heights of the now infamous YES sign. Her hands were calloused from climbing the Bridge of Tears; felt the searing shame as she sheepishly approached the now ruined statue of Joseph Seed - the state of rebuilding doing nothing to ease it. 

It didn't take her long to figure out that the seemingly random numbers made up a set of coordinates; and she had practically collapsed in the pew of Joseph’s church after collecting the seemingly last message, regretting her decision to wear two layers of protective gear that morning. Her sighed echoed around the empty church, causing Joseph to look up at her with a rueful smile as he caught sight of her slumped in the front pew.

“Please tell me it’s over, Joseph.” Flexing her hands to ease some discomfort, she looked away briefly from him. “I think even my callouses have callouses.”

“I’m afraid not, child: ‘all hard work brings a profit’, Miriam.” My brother insisted I await your arrival - John was quite adamant that I be the one to hand you the ‘final piece of the puzzle’, as he called it.”

He gave Miriam a genuine smile as he rose from his seat; warm and inviting - a contrast to the thinly veiled threats exchanged over a year ago at the failed arrest. Opening the book in his hands, he handed Miriam yet another slip of paper - this time with a single 7 printed upon it - along with a tourist map of Hope County. 

“You’ll be needing this, I’ve been told.”

Miriam blinked as she accepted the items Joseph presented her with. “Has John told you what this is all about?”

“He has not. I haven’t seen John quite so full of joy since he was a boy; nor his wrath so tempered. You appear to be a stabilising force, Miriam. “

Miriam snorted. “I've been called many things in my life, Joe, but ‘stabilising’ has never been one of them.”

“And yet it's true. I had doubts when I learned you were the woman John had confessed his affection to; thought you were to be his downfall - his sin in a new form. But… I'm pleased to say I was wrong. You are his salvation, Miriam.”

Joseph watched as the woman in front of him shifted in her seat. “I...haven’t done anything - not really. John is his own salvation. He’s… always been strong. Stronger than he thinks.” Her voice was low, an unexpected softness creeping into her usually rough tone as she spoke. “He’s my salvation if anything.”

“You guided John back to the Path. Because of you, my brother will walk through the gates of Eden - with you by his side. For that, I am grateful.” 

She gave him a small, almost shy, smile, simply nodding as she accepted the praise before she turned her attention to the items in her hands. Joseph watched Miriam eye the number, before hastily scribbling the number to an already long list on a piece of paper suddenly retrieved from her pocket. 

“Co-ordinates?” 

“Looks like it. I’m guessing that’s what the maps for - he’s thought of everything, apparently.” She rolled her eyes as she glanced up at Joseph. “I wasn’t expecting this to turn into some sort of game.” 

A comfortable silence settled between the two of them and Miriam took full advantage of this brief moment of respite, before rising to her feet. “I guess I should see where this trail leads. Wouldn’t do to keep Handsome waiting. His wrath might be tempered, but I’ll never hear the end of it if I have to keep him waiting.”

Which is how she found herself in her current position. She certainly hadn’t expected the last location to be in the Whitetails: her relationship with the eldest Seed could be described as turbulent at best. As such, Miriam had rarely ventured into the Mountains, especially without John by her side. She also hadn’t expected to find the location devoid of any signs of life - a brief search of the airstrip and the associated office told her that whilst someone had been here recently, they most certainly weren’t here any longer. Miriam had mused as to why John chose such a public location such as Lansdowne when the Ranch had a perfectly acceptable runway, ignoring how her stomach twisted with anxiety at the thought of meeting Jacob as she walked out of the building in resignation.

She had returned to her truck with a huff of impatience as she turned the key in the ignition, letting the engine run just in case. Jacob had dealt with Eli, but the Militia still mostly remained. It wouldn’t do to be caught unawares. 

Almost an hour passed without any signs of John, and despite her instincts practically yelling at her, Miriam found herself drifting in and out of a disturbed sleep. It was the distant roar of an engine fast approaching that awoke her, and instinctively Miriam reached for the LMG resting on the passenger seat. She ran to the hangar, checking her weapon instinctively as the shadow of a plane swept over the airstrip, cursing herself for her own stupidity at forgetting the shades resting on the dashboard of the truck. The sun was bright enough that she was unable to recognise friend or foe, and so she remained hidden against the outside wall of the hangar, refusing to give away her; listening to the familiar sound of a plane landing.

Her jaw clenched, Miriam sprung from her hiding place as she heard the sound of the engine dying, eyeing her target through the scope, finger hovering over the trigger…

Only to see the very man she had been waiting for clamber out of the cockpit, a look of childish glee on his face as he remained unaware he was being watched.

Rolling her eyes, she brought her gun down sharply with a barely restrained growl, striding towards him as she holstered the heavy gun to her still aching back. John remained blissfully unaware of her approach: something Miriam used to her full advantage as she called out.

“If I was a Militia member, you'd be dead right about now John.”

He slipped as the sound of her voice made him jump. Composure quickly regained as though he hadn’t been caught off guard, he deftly jumped off the wing of the plane, arms outstretched almost as wide as his grin as he walked towards her. “Miri!” His voice was soft as he placed his hands on her waist, pulling her slightly closer to him. A hand reached for her chin, and he smirked as he saw the petulant scowl on Miriam’s face as she looked up at him. “I’ve missed you, my dear.”

“Lot of work just to say you missed me. Radio call would’ve worked.” Folding her arms, she leant back slightly, breaking John’s contact. “Why’d you really drag me all the way out here?”

John's smile only grew. He took a step back, arm outstretched, gesturing at the plane behind him. “Ta-da!”

Miriam blinked in confusion. “It's just _Affir_ -” she began, voice trailing off as she noticed the now unmistakable inky blue shade to the body of the plane. Her eyes narrowed at John’s cheerful expression and she found herself walking towards it, hands tracing the body of the plane as she began to circle slowly around it.

Up close, it was easy to see how she had mistaken this for John’s pride and joy, the blue so dark as to be almost black. Miriam didn’t know much about the model of planes, so far as she could tell, it was practically identical to _Affirmation._ She raised an eyebrow in confusion as she studied a small, stubborn mark on the metal that was refusing to budge, no matter how much she scrubbed with her thumb. Why he would need another plane exactly like his own was beyond Miriam…. unless -

“John, what happened to _Affirmation?_ ”

He studied Miriam as she scrambled up onto the right wing. He could practically hear her mind working, trying to make sense of the situation. Her eyebrows were furrowed - a sign of her confusion that she could never truly hide despite her best efforts - as she glanced briefly towards the cockpit, before fixing her gaze firmly back at him. 

There was something about the way Miriam held his gaze that caused John to doubt the success of his plans, and he found himself shifting under the intensity of her gaze. Months of preparation and now that the plan was in action, he could already feel the tendrils of mild concern beginning to take hold. 

“Nothing, my dear” came John’s all too cheerful; all too forced; delayed reply. 

Miriam squinted. He was a good liar, she had to give him that: he held her gaze without any hesitation, and smile on his face seemed almost plastered. But the constant adjustment of his coat sleeves gave him away, as well as the barely perceptible shuffling of his feet gave him away. 

“If nothing happened to _Affirmation_ , why are you replacing her?” 

John's sudden burst of laughter echoed around the airstrip."My, so suspicious today, aren’t you? I'm not replacing a clearly superior plane, Miri! No, this one is yours, my dear."

For a moment, she froze, before her eyes widened in shock as she looked down at him. "You… got me a plane? Why?"

“Hush now, Miri. If a man can’t spoil his girlfriend on her birthday, then when can he?”

This time, it was Miriam’s turn to falter, blinking in disbelief as she hardly dared to believe her own ears. 

“You didn’t truly think I’d forget, did you, my sweet?” 

She looked away from him; slight pink flush developing on her cheeks in embarrassment. Of course, he would have remembered. This was John: the man who remembered almost all the insignificant details she ever told. She had been stupid to believe otherwise.

"Miriam?" John's voice was softer now. "You did, didn't you?"

At her barely audible “yes”, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, my sweet. I was simply trying to surprise you, not hurt you. You have no idea how difficult it was to keep this a secret from you.” He offered a hand to her, offering to help her down from the wing, smiling at her raised eyebrow. “Do you forgive me?”

She smirked. Taking his hand, she allowed herself to be helped down, heart fluttering as John forgo her hands in favour of her waist. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she gave John a chaste kiss on the lips, enjoying the brief look of surprise on his face before it was replaced with a warm smile.

“You got me a plane for my birthday, baby. I think I can forgive you.” She laughed as John’s arm snaked around her waist. “You know, most men would have gone for flowers or a necklace or something equally small.”

“You don’t like flowers, Miriam. Besides, most men aren’t me… and don’t have you as a partner.”

An arm still firmly wrapped around her waist, John used his free hand to gesture at the wing she had once been standing on. "Did you notice the wing decor, Miri? First Infantry, my dear. Your old division, if I recall correctly?"

Barely giving her a chance to reply, he directed her towards the opposite wing. He left her side, walking towards the stationary plane. "I took the liberty of having the Project cross placed upon this wing." 

Miriam’s gaze remained firmly fixed upon the plane, her jaw slack, her mouth unable to form any words, and the silence that settled between them began to grow too uncomfortable for John’s liking. Almost sheepishly, he placed a hand upon the wing, talking to fill the silence. "I know you don't believe as fervently as the rest of us, my dear, but I do hope you can find a future here with us. With me. A way of looking forward, rather than back -”

John’s breath was knocked out of him as Miriam suddenly crashed into him; her arms wrapping around him with such force as though she was afraid of what would happen if she were to let go of him. 

“I’m hoping it’s safe for me to assume you like it?” He asked, 

Her eyes were glazed with tears as she looked up at him, nodding. Ordinarily, John would be concerned, but the way Miriam's entire face lit up as she beamed up at him offset any anxieties he had about the suitability of his gift.

“You’ve thought of everything”

“Not everything, my dear. She’ll need a name.” He wiped away a tear slowly falling down her check. “The honour is all yours, Miriam. Any ideas? You know, it's bad luck to leave a plane unnamed" 

"That's boats, you daft bastard!" She laughed, as John held her even closer. "But, I think I have a name."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. _Retribution._ "


End file.
